


The Wicked Can't Rest

by Akaadji



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaadji/pseuds/Akaadji
Summary: There's no escaping the need for sleep, even for a demigod.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 171





	The Wicked Can't Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lulatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulatic/gifts).



As he crawled from the pool yet again, shaking the blood from his hair with a sigh, Zagreus took pleasure in the startled sound Hypnos made at the sound of his footfalls drawing nearer. 

“Definitely awake! Oh hi Zagreus, back so soon? Says here you...wait, really? You died in Asphodel? That hasn’t happened in…” Hypnos looked down at the scroll he was holding, humming to himself as he skimmed, “..23 tries! Did you fall asleep on the job? I know all about that!” 

“Must’ve done something to annoy the Fates. More than usual, that is.” Zagreus shrugged. He waited a moment to see if Hypnos was in the mood for further banter, but the boy was already nodding off again, quill still pressed to parchment. 

As had become his tradition, he greeted Cerberus first, being sure to praise the hellhound loudly enough to irritate his father. No matter how many times he did it, it still somehow worked. There were only so many dog beds he could commission the contractor for, so he’d been spacing those out, but a good boy like Cerberus deserved all the praise even without the added benefit of exasperating Hades. 

“Leave the poor beast be.” There it was. Now, onto renovations…

Zagreus watched appreciatively as the contracted shades set out yet another lavish set of benches, luxuriantly padded silk seats and dark, polished wood. He heard a low chuckle from behind him, and then felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. 

“Again with the decorations, lad? I don’t think I’ve yet seen you use a single one.” Achilles’ voice was a mix of amused and puzzled. 

“Livening the place up a bit. Might as well put these ill-gotten gains to use, right?” Zagreus motioned to the urns and flowers as he spoke. There was a hint of exhaustion in his voice that he tried to cover up with a laugh. 

“I’m just not the lounging type,” he stretched exaggeratedly and turned towards the House’s exit, “speaking of which, I really ought to get moving, sir. I meant to give your regards to Patroclus but I’m afraid I didn’t have the opportunity to meet him last time.” 

“A moment’s rest wouldn’t do you harm, but I suppose there’s no dissuading you...and, thank you. I truly appreciate your willingness to relay messages between us. Take care out there.” He truly was apologetic about not having reached Elysium but a small part of him had brought it up when he did in order head off the line of questioning he feared would come if the other man had noticed the momentary waver in his tone. 

“I will,” Zagreus assured Achilles, then, after a quick glance to see if he’d somehow overlooked Thanatos, made his way to his room. 

Once he was out of sight of all possible observers, his gait became less steady. He made his way to the Mirror, holding himself up with one arm as he leaned heavily against it. His mother was out there in the mortal world and he had _so many questions_. Ones that only she could answer. Zagreus needed to keep going. One of these times, it would work. Day and night had no real meaning here, so he couldn’t estimate how long he’d been trying. All he had were memories of every failed attempt, and by now those had blurred together so much that he couldn’t hope to order them properly. 

He didn’t know when he’d last slept. Gods didn’t need to, and he had more important things to do. But every attempt he made drained him of more strength, even as he used the darkness to enhance his abilities. He could only assume it was a flaw that came with mortal blood. He was immortal, yes, but no one else seemed to feel the effects he did from coming back. Hypnos hadn’t been entirely wrong with his teasing this time; he hadn’t fallen asleep, but exhaustion had slowed his reactions sufficiently to make him far too easy a target. 

Maybe just sitting down for a moment wouldn’t hurt. Hypnos would ask too many questions if he died early twice in a row all of a sudden. For all of his playfulness, the man wasn’t stupid. Not to mention how loud his voice tended to be when greeting him. The last thing he needed was for his father to be even more insufferably smug at him for failing. 

Just a moment of rest, no more, he told himself as he pushed off of the mirror and let his weary body collapse against one of the pieces of furniture he’d originally commissioned just to clutter up his room all the more. The fabric was softer than he’d expected, and the cushions gave welcomingly against his weight. A feeling of drowsiness crashed over him so quickly as he leaned back that the last conscious thought Zagreus had was to wonder if Hypnos had cast a spell on him. 

  
  


_“Ghk-” Zagreus choked out a strangled cry of pain, Stygius falling from his hands as he grasped instinctively at the spear piercing though his abdomen. The sharp point of the spear cut his palm, but he didn’t even feel it over the searing burn of the stab wound. A scream wrenched itself out of his throat as the Longspear pulled the weapon back out of his body. He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his midsection with shaky breaths. Everything felt wrong all of a sudden, as though the world were moving out of sync. Zagreus’s vision swam, forcing him to close his eyes against the nauseating swirl of color. There was only a moment’s worth of recognition as the spear pierced his heart before everything went dark._

  
  


_Instead of waking up in the Pool of Styx unharmed once again, Zagreus felt the searing heat of Asphodel as consciousness found him again. That couldn’t be right. He’d just fallen in Elysium, he should be waking up to the mocking laughter of his father and the vaguely unpleasant feeling of shaking blood from his hair. He could see again, but the pain from his wounds, though lessened, hadn’t gone. Zagreus groped around for Stygius to no avail. It must have been kicked away, he thought, bringing himself to his feet once more. The rough stones barely registered under his burning soles as he turned in place, scanning for his weapon._

_“...Coronacht?” the demigod asked, as though the bow lying by a nearby pool of lava could respond. As he reached a hand out to take it, the heat caused the blood still oozing from his injured palm to sizzle. Cautiously, Zagreus took the end of the bow farthest from the molten rock and pulled it closer to the centre of the room. It felt as if he’d reached down to grab a handful of lava and the weapon dropped to the ground again with a clang as he cursed. An attempt to flex his hand was quickly abandoned as he felt the skin threaten to tear further. How was he to use Coronacht if he couldn’t use one of his hands? Perhaps in the next room he would be able to heal himself. He attempted to summon up one of his bloodstones, but nothing happened. A curse from Chaos? Has they ever fully taken away his bloodstones, or just penalized him for using one?_

_Zagreus paced the room as he struggled to think. He needed to get out of Asphodel, but first he needed to find the way out of this room. After the first lap, he thought that perhaps he’d just been too lost in his own head to notice the floating chunks of land that would take him between islands. After the third, there was no denying it; there weren’t any. No Chaos gate, either._

_He’d never tried to leave without his weapon, maybe that was it? It must have cooled enough to hold by now, and then everything would work again._

_“Blood and darkness…” Zagreus hissed as he took the bow in his off hand. Nothing had changed. He was still trapped somewhere in the endless expanse of the lava fields. What was he supposed to do now? Wait. He could call Than. Than would know what to do. He brought a hand to his side, reaching for Mort, but his hand grasped only empty air._

_Hunger and thirst had no meaning for the divine, so even that couldn’t provide him an eventual escape from this desolate place. It felt as though he had been in the same spot for years, endlessly waiting for a way out to suddenly appear out of nowhere. Zagreus knew what he needed to do, what the only possible thing_ ** _to_** _do was unless he intended to remain alone forever, but...his stomach turned as he looked toward the lava. Could he bear to do it?_

Zagreus woke with a start, stifling a scream with both hands as he struggled to distance himself from the sensation of being engulfed in flame. Against his will, a whimper escaped him and even once he could trust himself to be silent he merely let his hands tangle in his sweaty black hair. Gods but he hated dreaming. Ever since he’d begun trying to escape, this happened every time he gave into weakness and allowed himself to sleep. 

“..Zag?” Than’s voice was hesitant, cautious. Zagreus stood so quickly that he nearly sent the lounge he’d dozed off on clattering back against the wall, eyes wide. They’d been together for some time now, but he’d never dared to voice a thing about the nightmares to either of his lovers. He didn’t want Meg to look at him differently, and as for Than...he was always so busy that they barely had any time together, how could he use up that time with detailing his failings? He struggled for a convincing lie, but before one came to him Than was embracing him tightly. The other man didn’t speak, just held him until Zagreus could feel himself stop shaking. 

“You’re okay, Zag. You’re safe.” Thanatos finally broke the silence, loosening his grip enough to be able to brush a lock of hair away from Zagreus’s mismatched eyes. Now more fully grounded in reality again, Zagreus allowed himself to near-collapse against the god of death. Safe...yes, he was safe now. For as long as he could hold out, at least. 


End file.
